


Paint you beautiful

by aimtoplease



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Suicide Attempt, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimtoplease/pseuds/aimtoplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants to be beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint you beautiful

That morning at 6 am. Harry lays wide awake in his bed. It is silent, the clock clicking so loudly that it echoes around the room. The spring underneath him slowly lodging back to its original spot. Even his breathing unbelievably quiet, he's not sure if he is breathing or not. Turning to face the black curtains, he pulls them back to witness the pink pink sky that he loves to watch every spare moment he has.

_I want to be beautiful._

 

+

 

Harry pulls on his blue and pink stripy socks over his cold feet and slowly shuffling into his brown boots that he favours so much. His mother; Anne nagged him to get rid of them as they had holes in them. Promising to buy him the exact same pair. Of course Harry declined. He doesn't like taking anything from anyone. Nor does he ask for it. Harry's only 19. But his grandma says that even at his young age, he resembles his grandfather a lot, the soft and deep words that he chooses carefully to portray what he feels and thinks without telling anyone what he really is. _Broke_.

_I just want you to love me._

 

+

 

At exactly 7:06 am, Harry would enter his local coffee shop and order the exact same he ordered for a year; a hot tea. He would simply smile at the brown eyed girl who would make his tea and wouldn't give her another look. Not even when she curled her hair to match his unruly locks, he wouldn't notice the little love hearts she would draw on his polystyrene cup. He will never know that she goes home and cries because Harry never acknowledges her.

Harry has his own spot by the window. No one sits with him nor does he want anyone to. He would bring out brown leather diary and scribbles his thoughts, he has never shown his diary to anyone. Not even his best friend; Louis. Not even Louis understood. Louis was happy, Harry was looking for happiness.

Harry didn't go to the coffee shop today.

Today, Harry walks all the way to the top of the hill, where the white mountains lay with shades of grey smudged into them. He comes here so often, picking at the wood that separates him from the bottom. He watches the sun slowly rise behind the mountains and sit peacefully in the sky taking its place within the light blue sky. Harry wonders what it'd be like to be the sun, providing warmth and happiness for everyone.

Harry never makes anyone happy. People don't like people like him.

Harry also wonders what it be like to become one of the shimmering stars in the blue midnight sky or one of the small clouds who has no purpose that just sits there watching over the 7 billion people in the world. He wants to be beautiful like the sky.

Toeing off his shoes and socks, he sets them aside his diary, coat and mobile phone, he lifts his leg over the overused wood, and shuffles closer towards the edge. The feeling is different; terrifying yet thrilling. Harry allows his arms to lift embracing the cold wind that cuts into his cheeks, tingeing them with a deep pink, his bruised cherry lips held by his teeth to stop him screaming his lungs out, to finally let go, to leave everything behind, it's his turn to be beautiful, his turn to be a bright star, to be a white cloud. His turn to end the depression, the feeling of being broke, the hatred, the love he's held in for someone who would just look at him twice.

_Notice me. I exist._

"Are you going to jump?" A soft warm voice flows through Harry's ears, shaking him out of the feeling, out of his thoughts. "You know it'd be painful?"

The voice sounds smooth like honey, hot soothing honey being poured onto pancakes. Harry licks his lips, he _does_ like pancakes with honey. He opens eyes slowly and it does look painful, but he figures it'd hurt for a split second. He cranes his head towards to his right and his arms slowly lower and reach back to hold the wood. It's a boy, dressed in black head to toe. Harry can't see his face properly, the collar of his jacket blocking Harry's view, the boy is looking down at the bottom, Harry can just about make out his long eyelashes that no amount of mascara would help a girl achieve the length and fullness of this boys eyelashes, his hair a watermelon seed black perfectly quiffed and Harry finds himself wondering if he used some sort of invisible gel to keep it up in the windy part of the town.

Harry shrugs, "it'd hurt only for a second."

The boy looks up and Harry almost loses his footing, tightening his grip on wood, he has no idea why, he was ready to jump a minute ago, but _Golden Eyes_ ; Harry smiles at the little nickname he's given this boy, he's messing with his head with his honey like voice and hazel golden eyes, chiselled jaw, sharp cheekbones and pink lips that Harry finds himself wondering what they would taste like. The boy's eyes tighten as Harry lets go of the wood once more.

"Wait."

Harry hums his reply trying to be a little nonchalant but failing miserably, this boy is very attractive and he can't help but feel his heart stutter every time _Golden Eyes_ looks directly into his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?"

Harry turns to face him and shrugs, but finds his mouth moving before he can register what the fuck is going on.

"I want to be beautiful. like the sky."

"You are beautiful, Harry."

Harry whips his and finds _Golden Eyes_ holding his diary, _his_ fucking diary in some random strangers hand.

"That is private! Put it down."

 _Golden Eyes_ shrugs and throws it off the edge, Harry's eyes widen as he watches the pages flutter slowly down like snow in January.

"Why did you do that?"

Harry is shouting at the boy, _who the fuck does he like he is?_  

 _Golden Eyes_ lights up a cigarette and inhales, blowing the smoke alway from him.

"I assumed you was jumping so your belongings might as well go with you."

Harry opens his mouth to object, but the boy does have a point. So he closes his mouth and breathes heavily out his nose flaring as he watches the remains of his diary fall until he can't see them anymore.

"Can I keep your necklace?"  _Golden Eyes_ asks whilst bending down and picking up a paper plane necklace and clipping it around his neck.

"Why bother asking if you're already taking it?" Harry faces away.

"Good point. Okay do it then."

"Jesus what is this? the next episode of Hollyoaks?"

"I don't think you want to fall."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Your breathing has changed."

 _Oh,_ it has changed and it's because of _Golden E_ _yes_ , with his ridiculous eyes, lips, jaw, cheekbones, honey like voice and maybe Harry doesn't want to jump anymore but wants to become a part of this tanned boys life, who looked at him twice. He probably hasn't. But Harry likes to think so.

"Just fuck off! I don't even know who you are."

"Just someone who thinks you're beautiful."

Harry throws his head back and laughs and genuinely laughs until it hurts at the bottom of his stomach. Harry finds G _olden Eyes_ frowning, staring at his lips and fiddling with his new yet old necklace.

"What?" Harry breathes.

"Why are you laughing?" The boy asks, his eyebrows pinched together.

"Because no one has ever called me beautiful."

 _Golden Eyes_ nods.

"Well you are, I would like to paint you," he states looking earnest.

Harry forgets to how to breathe. Beautiful people are painted by artists, not people like him.

"Yes Harry, you." _Golden Eyes_ reassures him.

Harry could get used to the boy saying his name like that, the _r's_ rolling off his perfect tongue like that.

"What's your name?" Harry breathes.

He can't die not knowing _Golden Eyes'_ name. The tanned boy lets go off his cigarette and stomps it out with his Doc Martens. His shoelaces are undone. But he remains mute. Harry shakes his head and let's go of the wood and lifts his arms again. This is all a lie he believes, _Golden Eyes_ isn't there, just his imagination playing tricks on him. Harry takes a deep breathe and finally lets go.

_I'm going to be beautiful._

Harry opens his eyes, his landing wasn't as bad as he thought, it was soft and warm. He feels the heat underneath him seeping through his tshirt, making him feel really warm. Harry finally looks down at his body to see if he's alive or not, when he notices a pair of tanned tattooed arms around his slim waist. Harry lets his head fall back and he hears a soft ' _oof'_ and he scrambles up off the tanned arms and is faced with a beautiful boy with his eyes closed and breathing heavily. His arms tighten around Harry and Harry feels at home, fluffy socks, white sheets warm and creased underneath him, hot tea and pumpkin soup. _home_.

"Why did you do that?" Harry whispers so quietly he isn't even sure if the boy even heard him.

The boy laughs softly, and pulls Harry on top of him.

"I want to paint you." he whispers against Harry's cheek.

Harry lifts himself up and sits up and the tanned boy follows, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. He noses Harry's cheek, making him face the boy and he loses himself in an Eskimo kiss. The tanned boy noses down Harry's jaw, inhaling his skin digging deep with his nose, if Harry didn't know any better, it seemed like the boy was trying to get under his skin. He finally stops at Harry's neck and breathes. Harry no longer feels cold, he is warm, with fluffy socks, warm beds, hot tea, blazing fires by the chimney and pumpkin soup.

"Zayn. My name is Zayn."

And Harry can feel his name being etched into his skin like a tattoo.

_beautifulbeautifulbeautiful_

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr:  
> jawlineanddimples tumblr.com


End file.
